


Worth It

by TheTrashMan (Viraaja), Viraaja



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Deepthroating, Dom Poe Dameron, Drugs, Drugs Made Them Do It, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Implied Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Post-Canon, Prostate Milking, Public Sex, Rimming, Sex Pollen, Sexual Slavery, Subdrop, Submissive Armitage Hux, Subspace, Touch-Starved Armitage Hux, Virgin Armitage Hux, a taste of sub drop, but he is so soft with it, but then feels, how does dub-con end up so soft, i'm just the trash man taking out the trash, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27707581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viraaja/pseuds/TheTrashMan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viraaja/pseuds/Viraaja
Summary: “Hugs, get it together. It’s just sex, it’ll be fine. Hell, it could be fun.”This wasn’t the first time Poe had gotten involved in some strange alien sex ritual. Certainly not the first time he’d volunteered for one. What’s the worst that could go wrong?
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 38
Kudos: 203





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> Tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the States and this little (long) one-shot is my thanks to the lovely Gingerpilot stans who have gotten me through 2020 surprisingly intact.
> 
> Regarding the tags, this definitely starts as technical dubious consent and then quickly devolves into enthusiastic consensual fucking, because apparently I am incapable of writing anything that doesn't involve feels.
> 
> Totally inspired by the ever-talented @Itssteffnow whose Hutt-slave Hux drawing is the whole reason this fic exists :)  
> [This is to blame](https://twitter.com/itssteffnow/status/1295792789964443649?s=20)

If there was one thing Poe had learned during his years skipping through space on the tail edge of adventure, it was that some adventures were worth it for the story.

Poe had yet to decide if this was one of those adventures.

“He’s worth every credit, little human. You just want him for his reputation, but I have many buyers who would pay for far more.” The Hutt who spoke was draped in silk, surrounded by slaves slathered in fragrant oils serving him fruit from gold trays, wine from crystalline goblets, and fawning affection like it was free too be given, not to be bought. Decadence. It dripped excessive from the barge, just like the sweat that dripped down Poe’s back.

Poe, who stood dusty and sweaty in the same clothes he’d been wearing for the last two cycles, trekking across Hutt space on the heels of a karking rumor.

Well, not really a rumor, as it turned out.

“I dunno, Gabbo, he looks a little roughed up.” And there was no way General Hux was a _virgin_. Not that Poe put any stock in what some questionable Hutt physician had to say about human anatomy.

“He has been difficult to train, but I assure you, he remains untouched!”

Hux had something to say about that, with the way he twitched in his cuffs, the brass chain he was strung from clanging loudly in leau of his words. He hung before Poe, silhouetted against the pale jade horizon, suspended just high enough that his toes could touch the ground, skirting the breathy coifs of dust that stirred glitter gold in the blazing sun, kicked up as the traveling barge made its way across the expansive desert.

The barest jolt of the barge sent Hux swinging, stretching his already long limbs into what, Poe was almost loathe to admit, was an elegant bow. He was all pale skin and red hair strung out for any wandering eye’s consumption. And while his twisted face may have left something to be desired, the gag in his mouth made up for it. Hux couldn’t speak, and Poe thought, in this, the slavers got _something_ right.

“Alright, _half._ I’ll give you half the credits. The longer he stays here the higher the chances of some bounty hunter showing up and making off with his head, and then he’ll be worth shit, virgin or not.” Hux twitched again, nostrils flaring as he snarled an obscenity at Poe, like he wasn’t the one standing there bargaining for Hux’s fucking life, and apparently his _virtue_. “Half is the best deal you’re getting, from me or anyone else.”

Gabbo roared something Poe’s Huttese was too rusty to make out, but he could guess.

It wasn’t pleasant.

“Fine, _half_ ,” Gabbo did not sound happy, but Poe had haggled enough in his life to understand no good deal made anyone _happy_. Was Poe happy to be paying nearly his whole life savings for fucking General Armitage Hux? Yeah, like hell he was _happy_. “Half the credits,” Gabbo continued, “but I must make up for the resources we spent on him. My doctors are paid well, little human. And you can see by that one’s injuries that he owes me his life. So I get something else before you leave with him!”

Poe grunted, ignoring Gabbo in favor of frowning at Hux, who’s eyes were staring daggers over his shoulder, face growing red with the words he couldn’t say. The sheath of a robe they had dressed him in was more decoration than clothing. The white gauzy material split down the middle, exposing the red scar that marred the milk pale skin at the center of Hux’s chest. A blaster wound, but not the one Finn had given him. A death blow, without a doubt. And while it was healed, it was still fresh, and Poe knew there was a story there, one he _really_ wanted to hear.

“Yeah, alright, let’s hear it Gabbo. What do you want?”

“You insult me, little human, doubting the quality of my product. Since you care so little, you will not mind a performance, staring your slave. I will sell seats for the show, and make up some of the difference in credits there. You will get your slave, and I will get my reimbursement,” Gabbo announced this as if he were the most clever slaver in all of Hutt space. Poe wasn’t sure he disagreed.

“A show, huh? Sounds like fun, right, Hugs?” Poe smiled his most charming smile for Hux, who responded with a strangled sound. The gag was rubber and brass, the ball that had been slotted between Hux’s teeth distended as he ground down on it. There was a little bit of drool on his chin. Poe caught himself before he reached out to wipe it away. “What’s he gonna do, dance for us? Sing? I bet he sings really pretty, don’t ya Hugs?”

Gabbo laughed at that, slapping his rolls with what Poe thought was probably a little too much enthusiasm.

“Something much better! Far more fun! The performance will insure he is no longer a maiden, you understand. Does that sounds agreeable, little human? Do we have a deal?”

 _Kriffing hell._ Of course. They wanted to watch Hux get fucked. Or fuck himself. Or fuck _something_. Poe didn’t even know anymore. What the hell was _wrong_ with the Hutts?

 _What the hell is wrong with you?_ His brain supplied, because Poe would be lying if he wasn’t suddenly a little bit hard at the idea.

But this wasn’t Poe’s choice to make. It was Hux’s. Even if he was in no position to do any such thing.

Where he hung, Hux had frozen in a gentle swing. His eyes were open, but they were unseeing, staring off in an icy glare into stars knew where. The urge to offer Hux some comfort consumed Poe, and he barely entertained the thought before his fingers were at Hux’s chin, thumb wiping at the drool there. Slowly, Hux’s eyes slid to meet his, and Poe saw the fear there, as crystal clear as the glass that held his tears. He made another sound then, long and high and needy - a _plea_ \- and Poe had his answer.

“If I say no?” Poe asked, his eyes never leaving Hux’s.

“Then no deal, and I won’t entertain your presence any longer!” Gabbo roared again, but this time it sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“Okay,” Poe said, even as Hux’s eyes slid shut and a tremor tore through his body, rattling the chain suspending him. Poe had not given up his hold on Hux’s chin. “Alright, he’ll perform. On one condition.”

The sound Gabbo made was not happy, and for the first time, Poe felt a pinprick of fear. “You push me, little human,” Gabbo’s voice growled low.

“I’ll perform too. Only me, with him. Alright? No one…no one else,” as Poe said the words, as he volunteered to _fuck General Hux_ , he watched as Hux’s eyes flew open to the size of two tiny suns, then narrowed, and then finally closed, head hung in something that looked far too sad to be relief.

Gabbo, meanwhile, remained silent. As long as a Hutt could remain silent, that is. “Clever, little human. Yes, I like this idea.” Curiosity broached his unease, as Gabbo realized Poe wasn’t pulling some wool over his head. “Well met! Well met indeed! You have your deal then, come let us shake on it!”

Poe thought, as he strode across the barge, that Gabbo did far enough shaking for the both of them.

After transferring his credits and recording his thumbprint (for Hux’s cuffs, Gabbo clarified), a group of slaves arrived, with pillows and silks and oils and a basin of herb scented water soaking a sponge, all arranged before Poe like some offering at the altar of his throne. Before he could protest, his clothing was being stripped from him, the sponge was to his skin, and the overwhelming aroma of cloves and myrrh reach his nose. The water was warm, the Twilek slave who washed him beautiful, and Poe almost, _almost_ lost track of Hux, as the chain he was suspended from was lowered and he was pushed to his knees by a burly slaver.

Poe watched as he adjusted Hux’s bonds: removing the gag, securing his arms behind his back, while a collar was fitted around his neck. From the collar the chain was drawn through, and then Hux was being hoisted back up onto his feet and made to walk the length of the barge towards where Poe sat.

Hux was naked beneath the robe. Poe had noticed before, but had barely registered the lay of his cock, the trail of red hair, the soft plane of his stomach. Now he took it all in, and where he should have felt disgust (this was General Hux, after all) Poe instead felt a tiny flame of attraction. Hux wasn’t much, but what was there was really quite lovely.

Then again, Poe was going to have to fuck him, so Force bless whatever mental gymnastics got him where he needed to be, or something. Whatever.

As Hux was kicked again to his knees, and as his wild eyes burned up at Poe through the loose fringe of his hair, all of Poe’s doubts abandoned him to his dick, as it decided, _yes_ , Hux really was very _very_ lovely, thank you very much. Poe bit his lip as he smiled at Hux, lifting his eyebrow in lethal insinuation, watched as Hux’s face turned even _more_ red and his mouth opened to speak-

Before Hux could say anything, the Twilek at Poe’s side slipped to the floor beside Hux, lifting a small bowl of unscented water to his lips. Words forgotten, Hux drank like a man lost in a desert. He was, Poe mused, not that far off the mark.

The slave was speaking to Hux, soft formless sounds too quiet for Poe to hear, but when the red of Hux’s hair caught the golden light of the desert sun, Poe knew Hux was listening. There was something there, in the way the slave directed Hux away from the words he almost spoke. A history that Poe could guess at, where Hux’s haughty speeches got him into far more trouble than even he could swallow. Enough trouble that another slave would take pity on him, to protect him. It tugged at Poe. He was the good guy, and Hux was nothing but the villain he had chased through the far reaches of the Galaxy. Poe shouldn’t feel empathy, but here he was, sacrificing his own consent so Hux didn’t have to go through some shit sacrificial virgin ceremony all by himself.

Hux owed him, now. Fuck Poe’s nonsensical life debt. Hux owed Poe his Force cursed _soul_.

When Hux had drank every drop of water from the bowl, the gag re-emerged in the clawed hands of the slaver, to be re-fastened in place in his mouth. The slaver was mindful of his fingers, avoiding Hux’s teeth where he could. And suddenly, Poe was positive it wasn’t just Hux’s words they were keeping at bay.

“There we are! Enjoy, enjoy! He is all your’s now! What pleasures may he bring you! Though the gag is for your safety you understand. Quite rabid, he is. It was either this or remove his tongue, and his teeth. Both novel alterations, in their own right, of course. But may I suggest leaving the gag be, at least until you break him.” Poe was almost sick at the idea. How may days away was Hux from having his teeth pulled out, his tongue lopped off? Fear found its way once again onto Hux’s face as Gabbo spoke, and Poe nearly reached out to brush it away. Gabbo, meanwhile, gabbed on like his name implied, “He is really quite pretty, even with the scars, don’t you think? They will fade, in time, my doctors assure. You have good taste, little human, good taste indeed!”

Apparently, now that he had his money, Gabbo was ever the gracious host. Still, Poe couldn’t help the smile he flashed at Hux, even followed it up with a wink. Desperately hoped it would put the sneer back on Hux’s face, rather than this uncomfortable festering fear.

Hux did not disappoint. He snarled like a caged Rathtar, and Poe didn’t need to remove the gag to hear _what_.

The slaves attending Poe draped him in a finely woven deep red robe, his clothes whisked away to who knew where, and Poe couldn’t bring himself to care, because as soon as they were gone, Hux was being hauled up by his arms to be placed at Poe’s feet. When a hand to his head pushed Hux down until his gag touched Poe’s toes, Poe couldn’t stop his chuckle. Hux was held there, bowed before him, like some slave before his king.

Oh. Yeah. Poe could get on board with _this_.

Poe wiggled his toes so they tickled Hux’s nose, watched as the aquiline shape scrunch up into a pinched snarl.

The end of Hux’s chain was passed to Poe, the burly slaver holding Hux down releasing him with a slow shove that Poe almost mistook for a caress, and then they were alone. Well, as alone as they could be, seated as they were beside Gabbo on his diaz. But Gabbo had turned his attention to some other visitors, investors, by the looks of them, and for the time being, attention had slipped from him and Hux.

“Hey, come here, would ya,” Poe said as he jostled the chain. Hux was where the slaver had left him, but it was his forehead, rather than the gag, resting at Poe’s feet. “Come on Hugs, you don’t have to do that.”

A muffled sound pushed past the gag, and then Hux was looking up at him. His eyes were still glassy, but the fear Poe had seen was hidden again, replaced with something that, frankly, didn’t make Poe feel much better. Head tilted back, eyes unblinking, Hux stared up at Poe from his knees with an expression of pure apathy that could have peeled paint from a speeder. When his lips drew back from the gag, the bright white of his teeth spoke as clearly as any words.

“Hugs, get it together. It’s just sex, it’ll be fine. Hell, it could be _fun._ ” This wasn’t the first time Poe had gotten involved in some strange alien sex ritual. Certainly not the first time he’d volunteered for one. What’s the worst that could go wrong?

-

Ok, so a _lot_ could go wrong.

“Gabbo, this isn’t what we agreed on,” Poe said carefully, as he watched Hux get dragged to the center of…well, what Poe could only describe as a ring. Though small, it was covered in the first patch of grass Poe had seen since arriving planet-side. Tended into a thriving green, it covered the ring in a soft loam. Soft enough for knees, elbows, backs, and, apparently, giving the perfect view of their impending activities to the surrounding barges. Barges that were filled with every kind of creature Poe could imagine, and all of them appearing to be filthily, obscenely rich.

But it wasn’t the audience that had Poe uneasy, it was the case of drugs being presented to him. Each a different flavor of aphrodisiac, most of which Poe recognized, half of which he’d previously tried, but none of them the drug they had given Hux. Poe knew this, because he would recognize the method of application anywhere.

Hux’s head was secured in a hood, a hood filled with the noxious gas of a ephemeral plant. Native to a moon from the Outer Rim, Poe had only seen the results of this particular drug once. Some sex club from his spice running days. He’d transported a single cannister of it, and still the job had paid nearly a season’s worth of credits, along with a night spent in the club spectating the effects of the gas first hand. The dose they had given Hux probably cost easily a whole month’s worth of his naval salary, and still Gabbo expected to make money off this…production.

“Gabbo knows you humans, your anatomy is lacking, not in beauty, but in stamina. This will help. You can have your choice, but I made the choice for your slave. Virgins can be fickle, the gas will help, he will want for nothing but pleasure, and will think of nothing else. Will come many, many times. You will see. Now, have your pick, or I will pick for you too, little human! Hahaha!” Poe was getting really, _really_ tired of Gabbo’s laugh.

The beautiful Twilek slave, the same from before, lifted the case a little higher. Her arms were shaking now with how long she had held the case aloft, so Poe took pity on her, quickly selecting what he recognized as Silserian bee honey. One of the more potent strains, if Poe were to guess, but still something he had experience with. He wouldn’t loose his mind to the aphrodisiac. Not like Hux, who was in for a…rough ride. Ephemeral gas was not for the novice psychonaut, certainly not suitable for an inexperienced purveyor of the salacious. If Hux was as uptight about sex as he was everything else in the Galaxy, this wasn’t going to be pleasant for him at all.

“Ah, Silserian honey, a fine choice. Intensely pleasurable, yes, but also that strain is known for its temporary psychic connection. Much like the Force, it will allow you to share in your partner’s pleasure, and they share in your’s. How divine, and romantic, now I understand why you sought out this slave! Good show, what a good show!”

Okay, maybe he should go with the Gresnian poppy instead. Poe had no desire to see inside Hux’s head, thought for sure that any aphrodisiac properties the honey could provide would be negated by whatever nightmare fuel Hux was bound to be thinking of.

But the case clicked shut with a heavy thunk, and the Twilek bowed away before Poe could so much as swallow.

Right. Psychic sex honey it was, then.

The sweetness of the honey held hints of an unknown herbal flavor, delicate and quick to dissolve under his tongue, more tincture than the thick viscosity he expected. Poe suspected it was formulated for a faster absorption into his bloodstream. Hopefully, the dosage had been adjusted for a human. A hope that was quashed, when not a minute after ingestion he felt the faint tingling of sensation at the tips of his extremities - his fingers, his scalp, his skin.

Inside his head.

It felt like someone was blowing his consciousness up like a balloon, like his brain was too big for his skull, and the gray stuff inside was spilling out. It would have been an uncomfortable sensation, had Poe not tried enough mind altering substances in his time to make this an almost familiar experience.

But it was the aphrodisiac component that struck the swiftest. It quickly drowned him in a gentle buoyant body high that had him half hard already.

No wait, Poe was fully hard. Yeah. That was an erection. _Shit_.

Poe pulled a hand down his face, breathed through the drugs effects, finally anchoring onto reality by turning his attention back to Hux. He was collapsed on the patch of grass, bent over his knees, hooded head to the ground in the mirror of the position he had held over Poe’s feet. The burly slave, the same one that had gagged Hux and kicked him to the ground before Gabbo’s diaz, lorded over Hux’s prone body. He was waving at the small crowd, spectators aboard their barges, surrounding the small ring close enough for the proximity to almost be intimate. Some particularly lewd suggestions were spoken in basic, the rest lost to languages Poe did not understand. Not that he needed to understand, not when the slaver was gripping his own dick through the fall of its tunic (well, Poe guessed it was a dick, even if it looked far too large to be human compatible), wagging it around in some obscene affectation of fucking. The spectators loved it, guffawed with amusement. But Poe could not tear his eyes from Hux. From the way his butt poked up in the air, all milk white skin stretched taut over a small but perky rump.

But it wasn’t until the slaver reached down to fist his hand into Hux’s hood to pull him upright, that Poe felt the first stirrings of real lust. The hood came off with a flourish, and there, propped up on his heels, head held at an angle so his gray-green eyes glimmered in the sun, Hux looked completely _debauched_. Already his face was flushed, his chest heaving, pale skin pinked by more than the sun, hair whisked across his brow in a disarray that stole Poe’s breath with how _wrong_ it looked.

No, how _right_. Because Hux looked so much better like _this_ , mussed up with lust rather than rage, on his knees for something other than the First Order, pretty eyes sliding from the slaver to find Poe.

_F-fuck you, Dameron._

Oh. _Oh._

Because Hux was _there_ , skimming his thoughts, parting the veil of Poe’s lust to tease in his own. Hux’s lust was a sticky amalgam of desire and disgust, coiled tight around a sadness that tasted old, like some once living creature beaten into submission and left to rot. Poe tried to swallow the taste away, found it lingering still, sickly sweet in the back of his mouth like the burn of bile.

Hux’s mind was not a pleasant thing, was in fact as unwelcoming as the man himself, wrong in all the same ways Hux himself was wrong. And beneath it all was Hux’s fear, a thread strung so tight Poe knew that if it were strummed, Hux would break. So, when the slaver bent over Hux to drag its paw of a hand over the scar on his chest, Poe felt that thread draw into a bone quivering crescendo. It was that fear that propelled Poe to take a step forward.

“Better hurry, little human, unless you would rather Shriek do the honors. He is quite taken with your slave, has been saving his credits for just a creature, one hard to break. They are always the most beautiful when they do, you understand. Of course you do! Go on now, show us how beautiful your new slave can be!”

Poe barely felt the robe sliding from his shoulders. Barely registered the the sensation of grass blades between his toes. Could only feel the breath of a breeze on his skin, mirrored over by a thin sheen of sweat, the ache of his jaw, the pressure in his shoulders, his knees, the hand on his scar.

Poe’s next step staggered, as his edges blurred with Hux’s.

 _Fuck_ , Poe was in trouble. They both were in trouble.

“Hands off,” he heard himself speak, as he collapsed to his own knees beside Hux. And it was almost better, this way. Now that their positions mocked one another, Poe did not have to wonder if it were himself or Hux he was feeling. Except, with proximity came an even stronger taste of Hux’s mind, and the dessicated corpse that was his desire. It occurred to Poe, as Hux turned to face him and his eyes splashed like acid across Poe’s face, that this was how Hux _always_ approached physical touch. Desire was weakness, lust a distraction from critical thought, and sex was the harbinger of plague, a metaphysical disease that would soil far more than Hux’s skin, would surely devour him from the inside out.

Despite all that, Hux _wanted_. And Hux did not know what to do with that want.

“Shit, Hugs. You really are a virgin, aren’t you?” Hux’s rosy flush and bared teeth were confirmation enough.

The dull clatter of something hit the ground beside Poe. Hux’s chain, abandoned to Poe’s possession. Shriek loomed over them both, too large body briefly blocking them from view of the crowd as he bent over Hux what would be one last time, because Poe nearly ripped Shriek’s throat out when the creature drew a single delicate claw along Hux’s cheek. A promise made, trespassing on _Poe_ _’s_ property.

Hux vibrated so loudly Poe could hear nothing but the off-pitch scream of his fear.

Poe slapped Shriek’s touch away, snarling, “I said _hands off_.”

Shriek laughed as he pulled away, hand snaking into Poe’s hair to ruffle it forcefully, his other hand back at his crotch in that lewd gesture. But before Poe could climb to his feet and kick the son of a bitch in his inhumanly sized dick, Shriek was retreating across the grass to where Gabbo shook enthusiastically aboard his barge.

Which left him alone. Alone with Hux.

Hux, who dripped vitriol alongside his drool, nostrils flared and eyes wild, staring at Poe as if all this was _his_ fault.

He really wasn’t _wrong_.

Alas, there was nothing to be done about the drugs they’d ingested. Nothing to prevent the way Hux’s subconscious leaked into Poe’s. The ephemeral gas should have wiped Hux’s mind of its higher functions. Should have reduced him to nothing but a body craving release. Instead, Poe could feel how Hux fought against the drug, resolute in his control despite one of the highest grade aphrodisiacs available on the black market coursing through his nervous system. It would have been admirable, except that, well, nothing changed the fact that Poe was going to have to fuck Hux, willingly or unwillingly.

Poe would much rather it be willingly.

“Listen Hux, it’s not like I want to fuck you either, but it’s either me or, like, Shriek, okay?” Poe reassured, or tried to. Something broken fissured Hux’s face, and beneath the expression bled a wavering touch of that sadness, followed by raging anger. He’d offended Hux, Of course he’d offended Hux - he basically just admitted this was nothing but a pity fuck. Shit, shit, _shit_. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I know how fucked up this is. But I’m kinda the reason you’re in this mess, that’s why I volunteered. Because it’s not right for you to go through it alone.”

The sound Hux made nearly tore Poe apart, he could _feel_ the emotion behind it, the denial and the desperation, the anger, and the creeping _terror_ Hux felt as he slowly lost control to the gas. _If you want to help, make it stop,_ the sensations read. But Poe couldn’t, they were both already too far gone, and Gabbo was right - Hux was beautiful like this, broken and pleading, and all Poe wanted was to _touch_. Before he could think better of it, Poe watched in slow motion as his hand lifted to lay across Hux’s cheek.

It was sharp, and it was sudden, the lust that sparked through Poe’s body and ignited in his belly. Amplified by his touch, the connection flared, and Poe gasped, as Hux’s mind didn’t open, but cracked, and Poe felt himself flooded with all the years of a lonely yearning for something as simple as this touch. It was beautiful, so close to perfect, spoiled only by the tenuous stretch of Hux’s fear finally snapping when he let out a long involuntary moan.

The recoil was wicked. Eyes sightless, thoughts spiraling out of control, Hux sprang to his feet like a cat, backing away from Poe so quickly he stumbled over his trailing chain, falling over himself to hit the ground again, this time landing on top of his bound arms. Poe nearly gagged as pain, sharp as a blaster wound, wrenched through his shoulders and replaced the pleasure. “Hux, _stop_.”

But Hux wouldn’t stop, he rolled over onto his stomach so he could get his feet under him, and then he was off again, stumbling naked across the grass, fleeing nowhere because there was literally nowhere to go, surrounded as they were by slave barges and a vast endless desert. The crowd was hollering, Gabbo was _laughing,_ and Shriek was at the edge of the field, ready to intercept Hux before he could attempt escape.

_No._

But Hux never made it that far. He dropped to the ground again before Poe could catch up to him, crawling into the meager shade the long shadow of a barge provided. There he collapsed, not on his back or side, but knelt over his knees, just like he had on the diaz. And Poe had to wonder then, what exactly had happened to Hux, for this position to become one of comfort. Cautiously, Poe approached Hux. More cautiously did he speak.

“Hux, are you okay?” He asked as he crouched beside him. A simple negative nod was his answer, the shiver across his body a confession. “They’ve dosed you pretty bad, Hugs. Ephemeral gas. Have you heard of it?” Another nod, again in the negative, and a shift as Hux turned his head to peer up at Poe over his shoulder. His eyes were sharper than Poe thought fair, but still blown black with the effect of the gas.

“The come up is fast, and it hits hard. If not given a physical outlet the mental component will keep getting stronger, until the paranoia and anxiety are all you can feel.” Hux bared his teeth again, eyes closing as he snarled against his gag. “But as an aphrodisiac, it is incredibly sought after. I’ve never seen a person able to ride it out mentally. You’re gonna…” Poe trailed off, as Hux pushed up and away, still on his knees, eyes locking onto Poe’s. Hux held them there, fear and anger shivering ice over the connection. “You’re gonna have to give in, Hugs.”

The expression on Hux’s face was a painful melody, honest and pleading, desperate with an unvoiced need. _I can_ _’t_. Lyrics of a siren’s song, and Poe let himself be drawn towards Hux’s rocky cliffs. He crowded Hux, blocking out the rest of the sun, shade cascading over Hux’s skin alongside Poe’s scent, his musk, spicy and sweet and as alluring as the shape of his jaw, the set of his eyes. Poe blinked, carefully peeled himself back from where his mind had layered over Hux’s.

“I can help. Let me get you through this,” Poe murmured as he leaned forward. Hux strained towards him in ways beyond the physical, the foundation holding him aloft shifting with the tremor of Poe’s proximity. Hux’s body wanted, even if his mind fought. And as Hux’s eyes stole over his face, his thoughts pushed out against his, tentative and searching.

 _He doesn_ _’t really want me._ The thought burned out fast, replaced just as quickly with that seething sadness. But before it could spill free, Poe sealed it off with another hand to his cheek.

This time, when the wave of lust struck, Hux didn’t flee. His eyes hooded, and his moan broke sweet behind the gag.

“I do want you,” Poe tried again, and it felt like giving away a secret he was never supposed to have kept.

 _Don_ _’t believe him. He lies. They always lie_.

Poe’s thumb found the edge of his mouth where it stretched around the gag, “I’m not lying.” He wasn’t, and there in lay his problem.

Poe was in big, _big_ , trouble.

Hux made a breathless sound as his eyes fell shut, head tilting into the cup of his palm. With it came a shiver of sad yearning, old and aching, dredged up from somewhere so deep within Hux it dislodged a long broken moan. It was as much permission as it was a request, probably the best Poe was going to get. So Poe replaced his thumb with his mouth. A brief touch, barely a kiss. Poe wondered if it were Hux’s first. Became sure it was, when Hux whimpered, as if this small thing were so much more.

Maybe it was. Maybe this wasn’t just the drugs. Maybe this was why Poe had chased Hux’s rumor halfway across Hutt space. Poe dismissed the thought as quickly as it surfaced.

Under Poe's mouth, Hux trembled, his skin soft as velvet, clean, sweet, musky, a flavor all his own. Like a paper book years forgotten on a shelf, that’s what Hux tasted like. Slowly, Poe slid his other hand into Hux’s hair, held him steady as he moved over Hux’s skin. He followed the ridge of the gag where it held open his mouth, around full lips stretched thin by the rubber of the ball, further still, along the edge of the strap where it pressed into his cheek, until he found Hux’s ear. There he paused, breathing heavily, as he gathered himself and his words.

“Let me make you feel good,” Poe murmured into Hux’s ear, feeling Hux’s swell of pleasure deep his gut. Hux shuddered in a breath. “How could I not want this lovely cock?” And then he chanced a glancing touch to Hux’s erection.

This time, Hux moaned, legs shuffling wide as he lowered his head down to Poe’s shoulder. Arms bound behind him, it was all Hux could do to lean his weight onto Poe to gain enough leverage to move his hips. And as Poe’s fingers curled lightly around his cock and tightly into his hair, it was Poe’s turn to moan. Hux was heavy in Poe’s hand, swollen and aching, and, yes, so very lovely.

Hux moved with the broken rhythm of a man driven by instinct, chasing the sensation Poe’s hand could give, sounds stuttering past the gag in time with his hips. Poe worked him lightly, dry as he was, even if the drugs told them this was fine, this was enough, all that they needed. But every thick drop of precome Hux leaked Poe caught, swept down his length, until the small little rolls of Hux’s hips turned into a slide, and Hux found the friction he needed in the curl of Poe fingers. When Poe smoothly swept his thumb across his slit, Hux moaned into Poe’s shoulder, the skin there hot and wet with Hux’s drool.

“That’s good, you’re doing so good. Just like this, go slow, I’ll get you there.” But Poe didn’t know how long he could go slow, didn’t know when the drug would abstract slow into not enough. Didn’t know how long Hux would let him touch him like _this:_ gentle and easy…tender. So he took his time while he still could, exploring Hux with his hand, his mouth, his tongue, his mind.

Opening up the connection, Hux crashed over Poe in a tumultuous wave. All the anxiety and panic from before drowned under wave after wave of pleasure. A pleasure he found in not just Poe’s touch on his cock, but the way he held him, the grip in his hair, the solidity of his body, the sweet honey of his words.

“You like my talking?” Poe asked as he squeezed his hand around Hux’s erection, giving it one strong pump. “Can I make you come like this? By talking you through it? Or would you rather my mouth? Maybe you’d like to shut me up with you cock, huh? Bet you think that would be fun?”

 _As if that would shut him up._ Hux huffed into his shoulder even as Poe was assaulted with the image of himself gagging on Hux’s cock as he slowly slid it so far down his throat no sound could escape. Just as suddenly, the vision turned topsy, Hux on his own knees sucking dick like he was meant for it, and Poe could almost taste it, feel the weight of an erection on the back of his - no, Hux’s tongue - painted so visceral across the canvas of his imagination.

 _Oh._ Ok, so Poe really, _really_ wanted to remove Hux’s gag now, turn _that_ fantasy into reality. But there was something about this one-sided conversation, where Hux wasn’t aware that Poe was inside his head, sharing his pleasure along with his thoughts. Poe thought that he should probably tell him. Thought better of it when Hux smothered down a moan alongside the fleeting thought of _Poe Dameron actually has his hands on me,_ as if that were something Hux had thought about before.

Poe wondered what other secret things Hux thought about him.

“Turn him around!”

It was shouted from one of the barges, deeply accented Basic but understandable all the same. Poe smothered his grin in the side of Hux’s face, eyes lifting to glance over the audience. Their proximity was close enough to the tiny stage that Poe could pick out the color of their eyes, hear the hushed sounds of their murmurs. They were here to watch Hux get fucked, and Poe had a feeling Gabbo wouldn’t let them go without putting on a good show.

“Close your eyes,” Poe whispered into Hux’s ear, “listen only to me.”

Poe knew he didn’t imagine the flutter in his chest, not when Hux’s breath had gone staccato. Carefully, he maneuvered Hux around. A hand to his sternum, just beneath the scar, the other lightly cupping Hux’s erection, Poe presented him to their audience. The gentle murmur of appreciation that moved through the barges inspired the performer inside Poe, the person who had sought out so many strange and unusual experiences of the Galaxy. He winked at a particular observer whose fingers were pressed to her mouth in obvious _appreciation_. While Hux might be shy, Poe was anything of the sort. There may be some fun to be gleaned from this yet.

“Spread your legs for me, focus on my voice, and keep your eyes closed.” Hux obeyed with only a flicker of indigence, his body reacting a split second faster than his mind. He settled into place on Poe’s lap, binds clinking, knees spreading, hooked wide over either side of Poe’s thighs, body bowed back to rest against Poe. Like this, his bound arms pushed his chest out to expose his peaked nipples, his small waist, the dusting of golden red hair that trailed down his soft stomach alongside the chain. And his cock, ruddy and leaking, slid over Poe’s fingers as Hux sought his grip. Head thrown back on Poe’s shoulder, hips moving in a slow seeking rhythm, Hux looked divine. Poe could see it in the faces of the people surrounding them: the glazed over awe, the blushing tizzies, the licked lips.

“That’s it, that’s good, so spread out for me, letting me touch you. We’re all that matter right now, Hux, you and me.” The woman with her her fingers to her lips gasped and turned into her companion’s shoulder, face a brilliant shade of red.

But it was Hux’s wavering moan that stole all Poe’s attention. Because Hux had pressed his cheek to Poe’s temple, slick with saliva and sweat, breath pushing past the gag in small strangled puffs. And his eyelashes, flutter light against Poe’s hair, fought the urge to open, as Hux did his best to obey Poe’s command. But Poe didn’t need to touch his mind to hear the way Hux begged for more of Poe’s assurance, it was in the trembling press of his body, the reedy cadence of his muffled voice, the tears that gathered wet at the corners of his eyes.

“Keep going, you’ve got this, you’re doing great,” Poe couldn’t help but encourage Hux, not when he sought praise like a beach sought water, not when his response to praise was so sweet. Hux shivered against Poe, cheek pressed flush now, hot breath spilling past the gag in a quiet whine, tiny sounds escaping with every slow upward stroke of Poe’s fist. All things considered, if this were Hux’s fate after terrorizing the Galaxy for years, he was getting off easy.

“Who’d have known that under that uniform you were such a pretty little thing. Anyone ever tell you that?” Another squeeze of his fist and Hux’s hips stuttered, rhythm broken. “Am I really the first? Been waiting a long time, haven’t you? Waiting just for me, Hugs?”

 _F-fuck- ah-_ Hux was close, Poe could feel it, the tug of it coiled tight in his pelvis, the euphoria that clouded his mind…

Poe nuzzled up Hux’s neck, found his ear, murmured quietly enough to keep his words private, for Hux alone, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you, fill you up, make you come, fuck you like you obviously need.”

_I need it, I need it, I need him- Dameron, Dameron-_

Poe pressed his thumb into the soft fold of his frenulum, massaged in with slick rolling circles. That was all it took. Hux’s orgasm tore through his mind before it hit his body, and Poe was swept away, funneled deep down into Hux’s pleasure while his cock spurted rope after rope of thick come. Poe was lost to it, a torrent of sensation that felt as acute as if it were his own. Like he had orgasmed along with Hux, and for a brief moment Poe was sure he had - was sure he had become so lost within him that he couldn’t find where one ended and the other began.

Maybe he was loosing himself to the honey, finally. His control was still there, but the sensation of having Hux’s pleasure as his own was too much to deny, any longer. Especially now, while Hux was so plaint in his arms, lost within the aftershocks of his orgasm as the aphrodisiac rewired his nerves. Poe needed to tell him about the connection. Knew if he kept it secret any longer that the breach of trust would become insurmountable. Carefully, Poe reached out and felt his way over Hux’s thoughts, past the haze of his orgasm, encountering not the panicked man from before, but a curious detachment, as if the thread of Hux’s pleasure had been all that anchored him to his body.

“Hugs, ya okay?” Poe quietly said into his ear. And then he repeated the words in his head, propelling them over the bond with a force of will he wasn’t sure was necessary.

A soft moan was Hux’s response, a flash of curiosity in his mind, as fleeting as the thought that accompanied it.

_Dameron?_

“Yeah. Can you feel me, like I can feel you? Inside you head?”

A flutter of unease stiffened his mind and his limbs, followed by the thought: _Kylo Ren_.

“No, not Ren. Just me. It’s not the Force, it’s the aphrodisiac I took. It’s a temporary connection between us, I promise,” Poe was quick to assure, even as Hux shifted in his arms, suddenly aware of far more than Poe’s physical hold. His cock was softening in Poe’s hand, though his heart still thumped out a rhythm under the palm on his chest. Poe trailed his fingers up Hux’s sternum, along where the chain hung, forging a path that brought him to Hux’s scar. Poe brushed over it. Hux felt vulnerable there, as vulnerable as Poe felt when he opened himself up to Hux’s tentative exploration. So as his fingers touched his scar, Hux touched his mind. Poe allowed it to happen; it was only fair, after all. And it felt nice, when Hux folded into his thoughts, all that tentative curiosity, his presence like the taste of a strong scent, lingering in the places he had barely touched.

_You’re different._

“Different from Kylo Ren? Thanks, I would sure hope so,” Poe chuckled, nuzzling under the line of Hux’s jaw, letting his lips settle at the pulse he found there. With this discovery, tension began leaking from Hux’s limbs again, making room for the fraught desire that simmered beneath both their skins. Poe was hard, incredibly hard, should have been _painfully_ hard, but whatever this connection was, the sated feeling suffusing Hux at the moment kept Poe’s desire at bay. Like he was the slave here, Hux’s need his master, and Poe was nothing but a creature meant to serve.

_Dameron- that’s- kriffing hell-_

“What, you heard that?” Poe’s hand had slipped over Hux’s chest to find a nipple, circled it slowly with his fingertips. “Sorry, I can’t help myself. I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face.”

 _I_ _’m not ‘pretty’._ That indigence was back, along with something Poe could only call wonder.

“You’re beautiful, Hugs.” Really, he meant it to tease, didn’t mean for it to spill so honest.

Didn’t regret it, when Hux clung to the thought, offering his own confession. _I_ _’m a monster_. And Poe did not think those two had to be be mutually exclusive.

The quiet susseration of the crowd dragged Poe’s attention back to the physical. The barges had reacted to something - someone - who had entered the field: the Twilek slave from before. She crossed the patch of grass in light-footed steps, a small delicate thing cradled in her hands. It glinted in the sunlight, as gold as the clouds of dust that stirred around the barge’s anti-gravity engines. And as she knelt in the grass before them, Poe realized what it was she held.

A pair of nipple clamps.

She held them aloft for Hux to see, her violet eyes holding his with a familiarity that reminded Poe of the way she had watched Hux as she fed him water from her bowl. There was a kinship between them, a shared experience in their life aboard Gabbo’s slave barge. And when he heard the passing acknowledgment in Hux’s thoughts, Poe’s curiosity peaked.

The Twilek remained silent, speaking to Hux with her eyes as she placed her hand alongside his neck, above the collar. Her thumb rubbed a slow circle into the soft skin behind his ear. It was an intimate gesture, not sexual, a quiet understanding language spoken only by Hux and this woman, and something passed between them that not even Poe’s connection to Hux could pick up on. Somehow, Hux’s mind had calmed. His body, beneath Poe’s hands, felt light, buoyant.

Then it sang, when the first clamp closed over his nipple.

 _Oh_. Poe could almost feel it in his own body, the sensation so exquisite to Hux’s sensitized nerves that it was all he could focus on. When the second clamp was affixed Poe actually did feel it, as the Twilek’s fingers brushed his where they had idled over Hux’s nipple. Beneath the pads of his fingertips, Poe felt out the shape of the clamp. A tiny, delicate thing, it bit with a gentle tooth, holding fast to the little bit of nub Hux had to to give. Small, masterfully crafted precious metal wrought around a small ruby gemstone. Expensive, Poe acknowledged.

 _A gift_ , Hux clarified, mind ebbing alongside the flow of Poe’s thoughts like it had always belonged there.

 _Oh really?_ Poe’s attention was drawn back to the crowd, to the woman whose fingers were perpetually pressed to her lips. She flushed at him, hand lifted in gentle supplication, an admittance Poe suspected was considered uncouth within the circles she ran. Poe grinned back, flicked lightly over the clamp beneath his fingers, and when Hux gasped, he heard the echo of it emerge from her.

“Hugs, babe, you’re got a fan,” Poe let the humor flood his words, let the _pleasure_ flood his body, as he played over Hux’s nipple with a tender attention. Hux was sensitive, here; and that was as amazing to Poe as the rest of the secrets he was uncovering about Armitage Hux.

Poe would have been happy to try and bring Hux to another orgasm like this, just for the generous rich woman in the crowd, if the Twilek did not have other plans. She stood from where she had knelt before Hux, hand trailing lightly through his loose hair, her eyes, however were on Poe. There was a rigidity in the way she observed him. A line she walked between commanding and requesting, as Poe suspected not many slave owners - _masters_ \- ended up in this ring alongside their enslaved. But there was something protective in the way she pet through Hux’s hair, a scrutiny to her gaze that reassured Poe in a capacity he knew must be mirrored in Hux.

“I won’t hurt him,” Poe promised, to her, to Hux, to himself.

She inclined her head, eyes sliding down to Hux again, as her fingers trailed his jaw to come under his chin. She tilted his head up, and Poe watched as they held each other’s gazes, that quiet unspoken language again passing between them. Whatever she saw in Hux must have reassured her, as a small smile flickered over her lips, like the gentle rush of a breeze in the still of the desert. Her fingers left Hux’s chin, sliding over his bottom lip to touch the gag. It was intimate, telling in a way Poe did not at first understand, until Hux clarified.

_They took her tongue._

Before Poe could react, she was turning away, heading back to where she came from, back to the long shadow cast by Gabbo’s barge. And as she retreated, Poe could not help but place Hux in her position, a lifetime of slavery, where _training_ meant _breaking_ and the person Hux was would have never been allowed to survive.

 _He has been difficult to train_. Gabbo’s words turned into thoughts, and Poe could not stop the possessive feeling that burned through his blood. _That could have been Hux_.

Suddenly, something inside Poe snapped, a desire or a need - a _conviction -_ and he was pulling Hux around to face him.

“I’m gonna take your gag off.” It was not up for discussion, no matter how convincing Hux’s anxiety tried to dissuade him. Poe cradled Hux’s head as he knelt up and over him, staring down into those beautiful gray-green eyes and assuring, “no one is cutting out your tongue, Hugs.”

_But-_

No _buts_ , Poe’s thumb found the print reader, and the soft snick of the gag unlatching was as loud as the thunder of Poe’s heart.

Hux held still in all ways, except for the violent tremble in his body, as Poe removed the gag from his mouth.

“There he is,” Poe breathed out. Hux’s mouth remained open as he stared up at Poe, as if the gag were still there, and Hux had forgotten how to move his jaw. Poe carefully thumbed along the pink chafed corner of his mouth, “welcome back.”

Hux’s mouth finally moved, stiffly, hesitantly, and then - “D-Dameron,” his voice, rough with disuse, finally spilled free, and Poe was grateful to discover Hux’s tongue was wholly, if not articulately, intact.

Somehow, hearing Hux speak felt like coming home.

Before he could think to hard about _that_ , Poe stoppered him up again, by covering Hux’s mouth with a kiss.

Poe kissed him slowly, sweetly, not needing the bond to confirm his earlier suspicion that this too was something new to Hux. That Hux had never been kissed seemed more likely than the fact he had never been fucked, because Poe did not want to imagine anyone in the First Order kissing Hux like _this_. Poe kissed Hux with a gentle regard, barely pressing, mostly hovering, tongue slipping out to lap soothingly against his raw edges, his aching depths. Hux opened for him, the trembling in his limbs reaching into his mind where it manifested in a flurry of piecemeal thoughts - too broken for Poe to follow, but limned with a desperately sad and buried hunger Poe thought he could satisfy.

He broke away before the kiss could deepen, lingering over Hux’s mouth as he sipped in gasping, belly deep breaths. That this might be the first in a long time that Hux had the space to breath without the hindrance of the gag disturbed something once fixed inside Poe. Some fundamental idea he had about the universe and justice and what was right and wrong and the things no one, not even someone like Hux, could ever deserve. And as Hux’s breath spilled over his lips, little shallow puffs in time with Hux’s racing pulse, Poe assured him from the quiet of his thoughts that everything was okay, would remain okay, now that Poe was there.

He held Hux steady, palms to his neck, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the hinge of his jaw, as he descended again. This time, Hux moaned when Poe’s lips touched his. Unobstructed, his voice spilled sweet, reaching the gathered crowd and echoing softly in their own quiet discussions. Poe picked out words: _So well trained, Gabbo has a fine stock_ , _Are either for sale? No? What a shame, lets find out what else he has to offer._

 _So this is how Gabbo will make his profit._ Poe, however, could not help but think he got the best deal that day.

As the crowd murmured their appreciation, Poe was drawn back down into Hux, his mouth, his thoughts, and all the sparking physical sensations their bond afforded. Poe could no longer differentiate between the drugs and his own abiding desire for _Hux_ , a desire that would have existed despite any aphrodisiac in his bloodstream. Maybe it was the perfect storm of innate attraction and the quality of the Silserian honey; more likely, Hux’s own flavor of repressed yearning. Whatever the source, Poe had never been as hard as he was, not ever. He needed Hux, in a way he had never needed anything else in his entire life.

He also needed to come, if the throb in testicles was going to be at all assuaged.

“Wanna try something?” Poe said the words against Hux’s lips, a question as much as a request as he mirrored Hux’s earlier thought back at him; the image of himself on his knees swallowing Hux’s cock down, except this time, it was Hux on his knees. “How about putting that newly freed mouth to use?” A surge of _yes_ overwhelmed their bond, a preclude to the low whine gathering in the back of Hux’s throat. Poe kissed him again, swallowing the sound, before climbing to his feet.

Poe felt tall, in the middle of the grassy stage, everyone but himself and several guards sitting in rapt attention. His audience watched him carefully, the quiet of their conversations taking on a private tenor as his and Hux’s _performance_ had somehow become something unexpectedly intimate. Hux had gone from frightful paranoia to amenable all thanks to, Poe liked to think, his considerate care

Now, Poe liked to think he could take him to desperate mess, show the crowd what effect he could really have on his stubborn _slave,_ the one they thought too rabid to leave unbound.

The flutter of Hux’s pulse beat a quick rhythm beneath Poe’s fingertips as the stroked up under his chin. “Gonna leave your hands cuffed, for now, okay?” Hux nodded, eyes hooded as he leaned into Poe’s touch. Over the bond, Poe could feel the sing-songy acquiescence that was the ephermeral gas, and beyond that, the darker desire of a fantasy becoming real, something wholly and uniquely Hux.

 _Oh, that_ _’s good._ Poe bit his own lip as he pressed his thumb over Hux’s lip, nudging the tip between his teeth. “Gonna take your mouth, use it. I’ll tell you what to do, just listen to me and you’ll be fine.”

Hux shivered his acknowledgment, eyes fluttering closed as he was momentarily swept away by Poe’s words. Hux liked being commanded, got off on it, almost as much as he did praise. Poe could work with that, could get _used_ to that.

“Open.” And boy did Hux _open_. Hux’s mind unfurled as Poe’s thumb slid over his tongue, the muscle wet and soft and supplicant against the rough pad of skin. He rubbed at the saliva there, collecting and dragging it around his lips, encouraging Hux’s mouth wider, sighing with pleasure as he felt the tidal crest of Hux’s pleasure edge his. Hux pushed his tongue out so it just peaked over the shelf of his lower lip, and Poe took the invitation, pressing down with his thumb while his fingers curled under his chin, holding Hux’s head up to the sun for inspection. Hux looked sinful, like this: pale eyes hooded, mouth open, cheekbones sharpened in relief against his flushed face. _Beautiful_ , he thought, even as his cock contended that he was something far more than _that_ , “Good, that’s perfect, stay just like this.”

Poe abandoned Hux’s mouth for his cock. Heavy in his palm, Poe gave it a squeeze, pressed his thumb into the the slit so a large bloom of precome swelled. Poe scooped it up with his thumb. Thick and viscous, a thin strip trailed after his thumb as he reached out to push the pad back over Hux’s tongue, smearing the precome across his tastebuds. Over the bond, Hux shivered. From his throat he moaned.

“Fuck, Hux. Taste good? Want some more?”

 _Don_ _’t push it Dameron_. Hux thought at him even as his lips closed over Poe’s thumb to suck. The pressure felt divine, and the way Hux’s tongue swirled circles made Poe wonder if hadn’t had at least some experience in _this_. _Military Academy,_ was the closest thing to a confirmation Poe could probably hope for. But it was enough that the tidal waves turned to high tide and Poe nearly drowned in his own desire, as he imagined Hux on his knees sucking cock for a passing grade in basic training. He felt Hux’s indigence again, swollen with a clarification, _I passed on my own_ , but maybe the cock-sucking had gotten him a particularly high mark. Yes, Hux liked sucking cock, that was now well enough clear. Poe shivered with anticipation. “Open up, tongue out, come on, come _on_ -”

Poe pulled his thumb from Hux’s mouth with a wet pop, quickly grabbing hold of his erection and giving it long hard pull. Hux opened for him, leaning over his knees as Poe shuffled forward. When the tip of his cock touched the slick wet slide of Hux’s tongue, Poe groaned, long and low, “Oh _fuck_.”

Hux licked at him. Tongue sweeping gently at the underside of his head, catching at his slit with each pass, lapping at the precome that collected there. Soft, almost tender, but just bold enough that Poe didn’t hesitate to grab the back of Hux’s head and hold him still as he fed him his cock. Hux gasped around him, eyes fluttering closed as Poe rubbed himself over Hux’s tongue, sliding himself as far as it took for his knuckles to bump Hux’s teeth. Halfway, and he was already past the breadth of Hux’s hard palette, nudging at the soft fleshy throat beyond. Halfway, and Hux was moaning around his girth, eyebrows drawn together and lips sealing to give him a single hard suck.

 _Oh fuck-_ “No sucking, just want your mouth-” Poe threaded his fingers into Hux’s hair, tugging back so Hux pulled off, head tilted at an extreme angle, eyes staring up to meet Poe’s, “-just your throat-” and then he was sliding inside again, feeding Hux inch after inch, until he reached the ridge of his esophagus and couldn’t get any further without cutting Hux off from air. Hux’s eyes had slit, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, lips red and swollen, throat clenching in habitual reflex. Poe let Hux get a few good breaths before he nudged forward again, “-come on, open up, relax, let me in-” and when Hux _moaned_ , his throat opened over the sound, and Poe slid home.

“Fuck, fuck _Hux_ -” Poe scrambled to get both hands tangled in Hux’s hair, holding him steady, pushing down his throat with little rolls of his hips.

Hux jerked, shoulders strained as he fought against the restraints, and then against himself, mind turbulent with the panic and the pleasure of having Poe’s cock lodged so deep he could no longer breathe. Poe could feel the way his throat clenched against the ridge of his head, the flutter of his eyelashes against his pelvis, the line of drool that dripped down his testicles. And then, altogether, Hux broke.

_Poe, Poe, I can’t-_

Poe pulled back, releasing Hux’s throat as he pet shaking hands through his hair, watching Hux fracture. The sound he made was strangled, his breath coming in sharp pants, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes but yet to break down his cheeks. And his whole body trembled alongside his mind, where a mantra of Poe’s name skipped to the pulse of his blood.

_Fuck he’s beautiful._

Thought projected, he hoped Hux heard - hoped he felt the rush of affection that lit his nerves at the sight of Hux’s prettily messed up face. Thought maybe the tilt of Hux’s head into his touch as his face blushed even more pink was confirmation enough, or at least a request, so Poe continued his soft strokes through Hux’s hair as they both struggling to catch their breath.

“Breathe, breathe, slowly, deep breaths, you’re okay,” He couldn’t help but sooth them both.

“ _Poe-_ ” his name, finally whispered on Hux’s exhale, the secret Hux had dared think spilling free.

Poe wasn’t very good at keeping secrets, either.

“Poe, huh? I like the sound of that,” Poe murmured as his fingers drifted down to touch under Hux’s chin. His head lifted abidingly, eyes meeting Poe’s, red bright against the gray-green. “You keep calling me that and I’ll start to think you actually like me, Hugs.”

Hux scoffed, but it was half-hearted, weakened by the blush that flamed his face, more so, by a curiously fleeting thought that was smothered before Poe could get a read. Smothered, that was, by the touch of Hux’s tongue to Poe’s cock. Hux leaned forward to lick a wet stripe all the way from his balls up to his slit. Poe nearly grabbed hold and pushed back down Hux’s throat right then.

Instead, he gave Hux some warning. “You like this, huh?” Poe breathed as he guided Hux’s head back and away, making eye contact as he swept his thumb along his lips. Hux remained strangely silent, as if the gag were still in place, but the pulse over the their connection confirmed that, yes, Hux was very much enjoying himself. “Gonna try again, okay? Deep breath first, then relax your throat, it’ll help, I promise.”

Finally, Hux spoke, “Yes.” The sound was beautiful, voice so soft and assenting, and so unlike the cadence in Poe’s head, the man Poe had expected, the person he believed Hux to be. Maybe it was the drugs, but Poe could not shake the feeling that this was more truthful to the person Hux was than the holos and propaganda he had grown to know. Wondered, if this feeling was his own, or stemmed from Hux himself, who had grown strangely quiet over the bond.

Stopped thinking entirely, when Hux’s mouth parted and his eyes fell closed, head tipping back into the cradle of Poe’s hands in raptured acquiescence. Open, relaxed, _waiting_.

 _By the stars_. Poe wasn’t going to last, he was about to come from the sight alone.

He pushed himself into Hux’s waiting mouth before that could happen. Past his teeth and over his tongue, he slid deep, beyond Hux’s soft palate and further until he was buried again in the tightness of his throat. But only for a moment. He gave Hux the opportunity to feel him, the weight, the girth, the way the blunt tip of his glans rubbed over the spongy flesh of his pharnyx. Hux opened, and he received; eyes squeezed shut, nose and cheeks pinked, head a heavy weight in Poe’s hands as he surrendered control to Poe’s whimsy. The display of trust lodged deep, somewhere the drug in his veins could never reach, and he felt the echoing sensation over their bond. Poe pulled back before it became too much.

“Inhale,” he instructed, thumb brushing Hux’s cheek, mind ignoring the way his voice broke, the way his body shook for more, wholly intent only on Hux in that moment: the subtle shift of his expression from relaxed to uninhibited, the thrush of his voice as he drew in a deep breath, the way he leaned forward, tongue poking out over his lip, eyes lifting to again meet his, so wet Poe thought he could drown in them.

Poe’s curse was more breath than sound. Became a moan as he slid in again, holding Hux’s gaze as he pushed down his throat. Deep, deeper than before, so deep Hux’s eyes fluttered closed as his throat fluttered around Poe in weak little catches. Poe lingered there, fingers buried in Hux’s hair, holding his nose to the nest of dark pubes at his pelvis while Hux trembled. Straining, struggling to take it all, gag reflex lost to skill or the ephermeral gas, pleasure lost to that which Poe was now also feeling, their consciousnesses twined together in a single tangle of lust.

 _Yes- stars, yes-_ Hux’s thoughts rushed over him, and Poe gasped, drew back a little. And this time, as his cockhead rested over the back of Hux’s tongue, he didn’t have to tell him to breathe. Hux inhaled, then leaned forward, taking Poe’s cock of his own volition, eyes finally lifting to meet Poe’s as if to ask - _Like this_ \- while his throat tugged and pulled and swallowed him whole.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck-_ “- _Fuck_ , that’s it, just like that, swallow it, swallow all of it,” Poe breathed, rolled his hips forward, into the clenching heat. Again he pushed, all the way, somehow yet deeper, deeper than should be possible. But Hux took it, shook with it, and it was all Poe could do to hold Hux in place as he moved his hips in tiny furrows, the rub of Hux’s tongue along his length paired with the fluttering clench of his throat drawing his orgasm to the surface. He was going to cum. He could already feel the pull of it, edging along the threshold of his limits, so close that when he twisted his fingers tight into Hux’s hair - to pull him off, of course - that the moan Hux released was all he needed.

Poe could only hold on as he came. Hands leveraging their grip to keep Hux in place, he ground his hips forward, spilling himself in long drawn pulses down Hux’s throat, one after the other. Hux seized in his hands, body rigid, eyes squeezed so tightly shut that his tears had finally pushed down his reddened cheeks, but still his tongue rubbed gentle along the underside of Poe’s erection, coaxing out Poe’s orgasm to near painful lengths, until he felt like he had nothing left inside him but the air in his lungs.

Lost even that as he moaned lowly while drawing out of Hux’s mouth with deliberate care. “Stars above, Hugs,” he said, as he collapsed to his own knees, hands petting through Hux’s hair again, thumbs finding and and tracing the path his tears had taken. Over the bond, Hux thrummed with a contended placidity. There under the bright sun, he looked like an absolute _wreck_. “Is that really what they teach the boys at the Academy?” Poe could not keep the grin off his face - he’d just gotten the best fucking head of his _life_.

But Hux didn’t hear, his gasps - _rasps_ \- stuttering a broken pattern. Face pink, eyes wet, lips open and red, all nearly hidden behind the loose fall of his hair, Hux sunk forward; body barely held upright with a strength that was fast abandoning him. Poe cupped his cheeks, titled his head up, caught how his eyes had gone distant, as distant as his mind had become, submersed in some space beyond that Poe could not even reach over the bond. Hux looked, _felt_ , like he was about to pass out. Poe pulled him into his chest before that could happen.

“You’re okay,” Poe whispered into Hux’s hair, suddenly remembering Hux’s earlier response to praise. “You did so well,” he continued, scared he had pushed him too far, too fast. Had he not let Hux get enough air? Had he nearly suffocated him? Or was this a side effect of the ephemeral gas? Suddenly, all Poe wanted was Hux to be free, to feel _safe_.

Hand trailing down an arm, fingers playing over the fastening of his cuffs, his thumb found the reader and the binds fell away. Hux made a soft sound, pained, aching, but sweet with relief. Poe gently drew his arms between them, chasing the stiffened muscles with the press of his palms. Up his biceps, over his shoulders, down his back. Poe pushed the pain away, until Hux relaxed again, breath evening, mind drifting, once again reaching that calm placid place Poe could only barely brush.

He hardly registered the faint murmured approval of the crowd. Tried to ignore the sound of Gabbo’s boisterous guffawing, the amenable glee in his voice as he congratulated himself on a slave so well-trained. Gabbo had nothing to do with _this_. This was something entirely Hux. Something you couldn’t train a person to become, only draw out, mine from their depths, a secret thing to be discovered.

For a long time, they knelt together. Despite the susseration of the crowd, despite the heat of the sun, Poe held Hux in the careful clasp of his arms, heedless of the time that crept by. His touch was gentle, his mind soothing, his lust kept at bay, likely, by the paciferous place Hux had escaped to. Poe encouraged him deeper, fingers walking a pattern down the knobby part of his spine, head nuzzling alongside his temple, lips lingering over his cheek. Poe gave Hux the safe place he obviously sought. Was sure, by the tenor of Hux’s mind, that this was as new to him as it was to Poe.

His suspicions were confirmed when Hux eventually whispered, “I apologize,” voice as tentative as the thoughts that were only just now surfacing. “I’m not sure what’s come over me.”

“Subspace,” Poe said, fingers finding and tracing the collar that loosely circled Hux’s neck - the only bind left. It released with a quiet snick. “It’s normal, nothing to worry about.”

“Subspace,” Hux tasted the word, rolled it around in his head. “Submissive, you mean.”

“Yeah, you’re a natural,” Poe said it lightly, wholly anticipating the touch of revulsion that scattered Hux’s thoughts. Poe was quick with his balm, “It’s not unusual for people like you. People in positions of power, you know. All that pressure, it needs a release. You’re not strange, don’t worry.”

“It’s weak,” Hux stated matter-of-fact, like it was the worst kind of offense.

“There’s nothing weak about you, Hugs.” Nothing weak at all. Nothing weak about a man who had survived a death wound to his chest. Nothing weak about a spy who spent a year undermining a fanatical military cult. Nothing weak about a Force-null who had worked directly beneath not one, but two, Dark Lords. “Nothing weak at all.”

The silence of Hux’s response only let Poe hear his thoughts more clearly: the denial, the shame, and beneath those, once again that deeply rooted sadness. Poe desperately wanted to wipe it from the very canvas of Hux’s mind.

“I wanna get you out of here,” Poe whispered, turned his head so his lips brushed Hux’s ear. “You know what they’re waiting for.”

Hux rasped out a withering laugh, far more breath than sound. Then clarified, “Are you asking to fuck me, Dameron?”

Already, Poe could feel his erection stirring back to life, “Yeah, but, if you don’t want it, I guess we could try to blast our way out of here.”

“I think I’d rather take my chances with your cock over trying to escape here drugged, unarmed, and naked,” Hux said as he shifted against Poe, fingers splaying boldly over the coarse hair that trailed Poe’s belly. Hux’s hands were slender, long-fingered, fine-boned. Dexterous, going by the way they moved over Poe’s pelvis, barely brushing over the shape of him, “Gabbo is an honest slaver, he’ll honor your agreement.”

“I’m honest too, especially when I say, if you don’t want this, I’ll figure something else out,” Poe really, _really_ , didn’t want Hux to stop touching him, though.

Because even as Hux’s fingers timidly held him, and his thumb dragged along the edge of his foreskin, tugging it back in an experimental exploration, and as the Silseran honey in his system smoldered back to a kindling inferno, Poe would not do this, not if Hux didn’t want it.

Thankfully, Poe had nothing to worry about. “I want it,” softly spoken as an affirmation of his thoughts, both as clear and honest as the scar burned into his chest. In this, Hux was unable to lie.

The quiet rushing of bare feet over grass was the only indication of someone’s approach. The Twilek, again, hands cradling more offerings, of the sort she bequeathed before. This time, she did not glare at Poe with a not necessarily unearned distrust. Instead she smiled gently at him, offered the gifts she brought with a familiar piety, as she knelt beside them and laid each out with reverential care.

A jar of oil, or lubricant, something they could have done well with earlier. And a long, ornate phallus, gilded gold with smoothed gemstones embedded along it’s underside. Too large, Poe thought, to be practical, and he looked at the Twilek, couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Are we supposed to use that?” as apprehension coiled low in his belly.

Hux, meanwhile, was struck with the image of Kylo Ren’s dick - as monstrous in proportion as the dildo before them. Poe had to bite his lip lest he ask-

- _No_ , he wasn’t going to think about Hux and Ren _like that_ \- yet, too late, he could already feel the shape of Hux’s laughter echoing over the bond, quickly followed by his denial.

But the Twilek shrugged, lifting a finger to indicate a barge behind her, where one of Gabbo’s men was signing off on a datapad - what, Poe presumed, was a transaction of the sort he had partook in.

“He gave us this, because he bought a slave?”

Her smile only widened, as she pointed at herself.

“He bought _you_?”

“Oh, how unfortunate for him,” Hux purred from beneath Poe’s arms. His eyes met the Twilek’s in knowing consideration. She winked at him, hand reaching out to tussle through his red hair, friendly, affectionate, devious. And then she was off again, headed this time, not to Gabbo’s barge, but her new owner’s. “That is a gift from her. It’s worth quite a lot. A thank you, for helping her escape.”

“Escape?”

“She was quite the famous thief, I don’t expect her to stay a slave for long, now that she is out from under Gabbo’s thumb.” Hux shifted against him, chin tucking over Poe’s shoulder to whisper in his ear, “Her reputation has kept her from being bought, but it has not kept her from Gabbo’s stages. These rich benefactors are quite generous. If you perform well, you can collect a substantial fortune in gifts. Eventually, maybe enough to buy your own freedom, or in her case, price yourself out of the market. Gabbo makes enough on these performances as he does a sale. He has very little incentive to make a good deal for her. That man must be very rich.”

Poe wondered, not for the first time, how Hux had ended up with Gabbo. Was suddenly assaulted with the idea that the wound on Hux’s chest had not so much been a death sentence as it was a suicide mission. And whoever had sent Hux here had meant this as a punishment worse than execution. Where would Hux have ended up, if Poe had not come looking for him? What monstrous slave owner would have come along and picked him from Gabbo’s stock? What if Shriek had bought him, waited until Hux’s tongue had been cut and his spirit broke, as damaged as the other goods Poe had watched pass through Hutt space?

“Getting you out of here now,” Poe growled as he turned his head and caught Hux’s lips in a possessive kiss. Honey or not - ephemeral gas or not - Poe felt overwhelmed by his _need_ for Hux. It drowned out the growing chatter of the crowd, their excited cadence nothing compared to the way his body vibrated with the touch of Hux against his lips, under his hands, against his body. Hux responded to the force of Poe’s affection with a tangential yearning, body bending to Poe’s whim as he lowered Hux to the ground.

Splayed on his back under the golden light of the sun, Hux set to fire. His skin, so pale, reflected white against the green grass, and his hair burned in an infernal halo around his crown, red and gold and fanned to flaming. But it was his eyes, glitter green from beneath thick lashes, that struck deepest, staring up at Poe as if it was _him_ who was to be admired, as if Hux weren’t the most gorgeous creature that had ever passed through Gabbo’s hands. Poe wondered if Hux even knew how beautiful he was. Thought he might get the chance to convince him - thought he might have just bought himself something far more valuable than a dead man’s freedom.

Hux’s blush burned bright, and only belatedly did Poe remember that he could hear his every thought.

“It’s only the drug, Dameron,” said so softly it almost sounded sad. Almost became tragic, when Poe reached out and brushed over the truth of his suspicions: No one found Hux beautiful, least of all Poe Dameron.

“It’s not the drug.” Poe smiled when he reached out and tweaked one of Hux’s nipples, the clamp catching and tugging at the so far ignored nub. Hux gasped, eyes closing, back arching, and his pleasure singing over the bond. “You really never been fucked before?”

“No-” Hux breathed, head turned to the side now, chest heaving beneath Poe’s fingers where they played over the clamp, heated cheek pressed flush to the cool grass, “-never.”

“I’ll have to use my fingers on you first.” The clamp came free easier than it went on, leaving Hux’s nipple red and swollen, and just as sensitive to Poe’s touch. He licked his thumb, reaching again to smooth around the areola, slick and soothing and stimulating all at once. Hux shivered, mind anchored in the physical, thoughts twisting round the sensations Poe provoked: the fire in his nerves, the gentleness of his touch…the sound of his voice.

 _You really like my voice, huh?_ He thought. Hux flared with a persnickety obtuseness. Poe could only grin, and of course, talk some more. “I’ll open you up, slowly, get you all worked up on my fingers, stretch you wide for my cock. Have you ever done that to yourself, Hugs? Used your fingers?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Hux whispered the word, a breathy sound that was as much a confession as an answer. Poe was _delighted_.

“Tell me how.” One last tweak and Poe eased off his nipple, lightly petting over Hux’s scarred chest, encouraging the path of his thoughts, directing them like he directed his touch. “Tell me, Hux. How do you open yourself up?”

Hux’s mind staggered, thoughts flying out of his head too fast for either to grasp. His flush, Poe saw, had deepened to a bloom of red. Still, Poe’s question lingered, and Hux struggled before he finally relented his answer. “In the shower, or my bed.”

“Yeah?” Poe rewarded him, his fingers brushing over the other nipple. Hux gasped again, his hands twisting into the blades of grass at his sides. Poe took his time, sweeping across the snagged bud with deliberate pressure, just enough that he could feel the echo of the sensation deep in the pit of him, where his belly twisted with his loins. “But that’s only where, not _how_.”

 _Stars, Poe._ Poe smiled when the thought hit him. Outright grinned when Hux moaned his answer.

“Oil. I would use it to _ah-_ ” Hux cut off as Poe’s fingers closed over the clamp, a gentle squeeze, but amplified: teasing, testing, _torturing-_

“Look at me.” Poe dropped his voice, commanding Hux as well as any junior officer. But it _worked_. Hux met Poe’s eyes with an obedience that seemed to surprise even him. “How many fingers?”

“ _Poe-_ ” Hux’s hips twitched up, eyes edged white, cock swollen red, dripping with need. It took everything Poe had not to reach out and touch it.

Instead he eased back, fingers loosening their grip on the clamp, flattening back out to a slow smoothing press, “Go on, you can tell me.”

“Two. Two fingers,” Hux breathed his answer, and Poe heard his thought: the hope that his answer was the right one, his hope that Poe would go back to squeezing his nipple because that had felt so g _ood_ , and the hope that Poe wasn’t completely taken by the aphrodisiac, because no one had ever made Hux feel this way before, and he thought he might finally break if it was all because of a drug.

Poe eased over that thought, filed it away alongside everything else he had learned about Hux…was learning about himself. But Poe maintained his gentle pressure on Hux’s nipple, even as his words replaced the heat in his belly with a burning inferno. “Two is good, but I’ll have to use three. Think you can take three?” And then he tugged on the clamp, gently pulling it, keeping pressure until the bluntly grooved teeth finally dragged off the nub in a slow deliberate twang.

 _“Yes!”_ Hux cried out, body jerking as the clamp came away, cock twitching a dribble of precome from the tip, and the bond seared with the sensation of nerves on fire. Poe felt warm all over, heady with the sudden echo of these sensations, as Hux strained and shivered and pleaded with his body while his mind turned over the idea that it wasn’t just Poe’s fingers that would take him apart.

“You’re alright.” If only he could sooth Hux’s mind half as well as he could his body. Hux shook with dueling sensations, the pleasure of his nerves versus the anxious turn of his thoughts. Poe thought the ephemeral gas would have eased up some by now, but the way Hux’s mind tumulted suggested an anxiety rooted far deeper than the mere synapses of his drug-addled mind. Hux was _shaking_. His hands had ripped the grass from the earth, the blades now stuck to the slick of his palm _._ And his heart, beneath Poe’s fingers, beneath his scar, pounded quick with his pulse. “Shh, now, I’ve got you.”

“Poe, _help me_.” Hux needed him, he needed _Poe_ as essentially as he needed the air he breathed, and it scared him. Poe felt it in the way his hips twitched up, in the moment his hand lifted, and hesitated, before settling over Poe’s and grasping tight. The fingers wedging together, strange, intimate, something born from outside the drugs in their veins. Something as striking as the sight of the broken blades of grass scattered black across the the too pale breadth of Hux’s scarred chest.

“What do you need?” Poe’s voice shook as he asked a question he already had the answer to, fingers squeezing, _tangling,_ and he felt the precise moment when Hux snapped.

“You, take me, fuck me.” Hux begged, his mind consumed with the image, the constructed sensation, what it would feel like to have Poe’s beautiful cock splitting him open, filling him up. “Poe, _please_.”

“Okay, I know. I will, no more teasing.” Hux’s eyes snapped to Poe’s, gaze unbroken as Poe lifted their joined hands. Poe closed the distance, brought their hands up to his mouth, lips parting to press a kiss to where their fingers tangled. “Roll over for me, on your knees, forehead to the ground.”

Hux’s thoughts fell apart, then. Scattered to the wind like the sands that surrounded him, body only able to obey Poe’s command. Legs folded, knees spread, Hux lowered himself to the ground, forehead coming to rest against the grass in the same position he had taken at Poe’s feet upon the diaz. _A position of comfort_. The thought idled truthfully, confirmed by the placid fold of Hux’s mind over the strangely desperate anxiety that had harried him before. Poe placed a hand to Hux’s lower back, steady and firm in its gentle pressure, hoped Hux couldn’t feel how his palm trembled.

The oil was thick, viscose even after being warmed by the sun.

His finger, when it brushed slick over the furl of Hux’s anus, trembled more than his palm. Poe steadied his breath, then his hand, and slowly pressed his finger inside.

Hux opened for him easily. One finger accepted, even as Poe felt the clench of Hux around him, the ambient noise of his wandering thoughts brushing words like _good_ and _yes_ across their connection. Poe gently worked his finger, just the girth of it, sliding in and out slowly, exploratory, while his other hand pulled Hux’s cheek open to give him more room to work. Hux spread his legs a little wider, tilted his hips a little higher, as he shifted into the newfound sensation of having someone else’s finger inside him. Poe struggled to control his breath, was proud when his voice didn’t shake when he said, “That’s good, Hux, so good. Gonna add a second, now.”

It should be sinful, how easily his second finger eased in along side the first. Hux moaned when the combined girth of the two bottomed out completely. Poe held there, enjoying the fluttering clench of Hux’s sphincter, the slowly swelling furl of his anus. Particularly enjoyed the strangled sound of Hux’s cry, when he leaned forward to lick alongside the breach made by his fingers, discovering the oil both scentless and tasteless, so that the only flavor Poe found was the musky scent that was all Hux.

“P-Poe, _what_ -”

“Hush, let me have you.” And then Poe was lost to it, the slide of his fingers, the taste of Hux’s skin, the soft sound of his voice as his protests turned to moans, and then to pleas, and finally to sobs. He worked Hux open with an enthusiasm he’d never felt for another partner, not in all the wild adventures he’d found among the furthest reaches of his sexual experience. And maybe it _was_ the drug, but Poe suspected the mirrored sensations coming over the bond had more to do with that thing that had drawn him across the Galaxy in search of Hux, rather than some slave trader’s stock of high grade aphrodisiacs.

When he edged his third finger inside, he distracted Hux by placing his lips over the soft skin of his taint, sucking at the spot while his three fingers slowly slid home, stretching Hux wide, teasing - _preparing -_ for the greater breach that would be his cock. But not before he took Hux apart completely. After all, Poe had not forgotten about their audience, and he always liked to put on a good show.

Hux’s shout, when Poe curled his fingers into his prostate, filled Poe’s cock and his head and spilled over warm deep into his chest.

Poe worked Hux from inside and out, fingers massaging into his prostate while his tongue applied pressure over his perenium. The clench of Hux’s anus around his fingers went from reflexive to reactive, as Hux cried and his hips moved in a broken stuttering grind - seeking - moving in time with Poe’s touches. Hux was a _mess_ and Poe wanted to keep him like this, wanted to work Hux until he came from this alone, taken apart by nothing but Poe’s fingers and his tongue, cock left to spill his spend without the help of a strong hand.

Instead, he drew away, mouth finding a place over Hux’s spine while his fingers slowly slid free with one last pass over his prostate. The effect was instantaneous: a deep twitch, Hux’s hole clenching at him, trying and failing to hold him in place. Poe pulled free with a soft groan.

“Poe-” Hux gasped, voice desperate, hole twitching beneath Poe’s fingers where they now lingered over the swollen puff of his anus. Poe paused there, swirling circles, just enjoying Hux as he was, broken and pleading for more. Poe’s tongue swiftly followed, wet and soothing, laving saliva alongside the lube, dipping into Hux’s barely opened hole. Hux shook and shivered and rasped out beautiful little sobs, sounds that went straight to Poe’s erection, stoked a fire inside him that threatened to burn him alive. “Poe, I need-”

 _Fuck me,_ his thoughts demanded, while his voice whined when Poe lined his cock up into place.

“I know, I am,” Poe affirmed. The oil he dribbled over the length of himself was probably more than actually necessary, but Poe was taking no chances. He wanted Hux to enjoy this - _continue_ enjoying this. Hoped maybe would want to enjoy it again, sometime in the future. Beneath him, Hux’s whole body shook. From his curved shoulders up to this lifted hips, Hux struggled to maintain his posture when all his body wanted was to be breached, to be fucked, to lower itself down onto Poe’s waiting cock and finally find out what it felt like to be filled with another man’s seed.

Poe’s brain staggered over _that_. Consumed by the idea of it the vision of what Hux would look like, open and dripping with come - _his_ come.

“Hugs, you’re gonna make me loose control,” Poe rasped into his back, forehead dropped to his spine while his fist worked once, twice more over his erection.

“Then fuck me already, Dameron, I’ve waited so-” Poe grabbed Hux’s hip, held him still as he pushed forward with just enough pressure to spread Hux open, tease him with the tip, “- _Poe!_ ”

Poe slid inside in a single smooth thrust.

It wasn’t what he intended. He’d meant to ease into Hux slowly, give him the opportunity to adjust, to work through any pain. Instead their hips met and held in a deep grind, Poe biting his lip against his shout while Hux _screamed_ into the open arena of the stage surrounding them. Pleasure, pain, an overwhelming sense of a need being filled, they all fluxed over the bond. Poe felt drowned in the sensations, recognized them as Hux’s alone, things pushed free from the recesses of his mind - things he had hidden away for so long that they ignited into an inferno that burned hot and bright and so very fast until Hux was nothing but a trembling husk beneath Poe, folded into the verdant loam of the stage, the cool grass his only comfort.

 _Oh, fuck-_ “That’s it,” Poe breathed as he pulled Hux's hips back even further. “That’s good. Take it, all of it, deep as you can.” He rolled his hips in a circle, stretching Hux wider, making even more room so he could somehow slide all the more deeper. Hux scrabbled at the ground, pushing back against Poe’s hips in an aching grind. His voice was wet with sobs. “You’re perfect like this, Hugs, like you were made for a cock. Waited so long for it, didn’t you?”

The cry that answered him sounded like all the others, but the thoughts bouncing around in his head marked different. Gone was the fear, the demand to be fucked, the desperate chase for something out of reach. Instead, Hux felt split open, fulfilled, deeply relieved - _surrendered_.

Surrendered to _Poe_.

 _Stars save me_.

Poe drew back, slow, deliberate. And then he rocked forward, into and over Hux’s prostate, and further yet. Hux shouted, and then he shook, body edging along orgasm already, strung so tight that Poe thought all it would take was a single strum of his fingers on just the right note. Hux wasn’t going to last. Neither of them were going to last.

Poe growled as his hips snapped forward again, hands pulling Hux back to meet him. Hux sobbed loudly as he bottomed out, pushing back into Poe as his hips ground hard, whimpering as Poe held him steady and pulled back to do it all over again.

Poe found a rhythm in the sounds Hux made, just slow enough to feel every point of friction, but fast enough that their momentum reduced Hux to a sobbing whimpering mess. The sounds were beautiful, just as beautiful as the vision Hux made, sprawled out below him, back arched, ass raised, fists held fast to the blades of green grass.

But not nearly as beautiful as the inside of Hux’s head, where he tread his pleasure like a man who didn’t know how to swim, each wave drawing him further and further under, until the only hold Hux could find was the anchor of Poe himself, his touch, his voice, the very physical feel of his cock inside him.

Poe’s orgasm reared to life, coiling his balls tight as it chased his spine rigid. He was going to come.

“Fuck, Hugs. I’m gonna come,” Poe rasped, leaning forward over Hux’s back with his next thrust. Here his hips wedged tight, grinding into Hux’s prostate, working into it with a relentless determination, “Want you to come from the feel of it, of me filling you up full. Can you do that for me Hugs? Will you come for me?”

“Yes,” Hux gasped as he pushed back, as his hips lifted to meet Poe’s, as his mind cracked until the pressure of not just his own, but also Poe’s impending orgasm. And then, suddenly, the moment hit, plateauing him at the threshold, held there only by his desire to take Hux with him. Pleasure swept them both up into a tumultuous cyclone of physical sensation, but it was the elated breadth of Hux’s mind easing completely open that sent Poe over the edge.

Beyond the pall of the drugs existed something so buried Poe wondered if even Hux understood what it was, a relief and affection, and that sad, sad thing that Poe now recognized as Hux’s attraction for him: a forbidden fantasy Hux had harbored for far longer than an afternoon spent as his slave.

_Oh, fuck, Hux-_

Poe came, hard. It crashed over him, come pulsing out of his cock deep inside Hux in wave after crippling wave.

And then Hux was coming too, voice crying out Poe’s name as he spilled himself over the grass in thick ropey stripes, anus clenching and pulling and milking at Poe as they lost themselves in one another. Hips pressed close, grinding deep, they rode out their orgasms together, filling and fucking and taking everything the other had to offer.

Distantly, Poe heard the gentle rush of soft applause. Beneath him, Hux collapsed into _that_ place again, the space beyond thought, where his mind distended into nothing but the most basic existence. A safe place, Poe acknowledged, where the trappings of the world he survived in could not reach him. And as Poe was dragged down alongside Hux, into the cool escape of the relief beyond, Poe thought he would be happy there too, if he could be there with Hux.

-

Poe fiddled with the hyperspace coordinates again, adjusting course for maybe the fourth - no, fifth time? - since he had re-boarded his tiny cruiser. Depleted of nearly all his credits and down to just the fuel in his tank, Poe had debated if he could even make it home to Yavin-IV. Because surely his father would welcome him back despite the cargo he hauled. Or maybe they could pawn that golden dildo off, see how far that got them. Not that Hux would even want to go _anywhere_ with him, let alone his home. And technically, Hux _was_ a dead man. No matter where they went they’d have to come up with a story, a name for him to use. Poe had some ideas. Hux would hate them all.

Something about that set Poe’s heart aflutter.

Something about _Hux -_ Hux, who was currently passed out on Poe’s bunk, sleeping off the effects of the ephemeral gas and the ensuing crash from all their...well, fucking just didn’t quite describe it, Poe decided.

Stars, was he glad no one was around to see how stupid his grin was.

Or rather, no one but the very person who inspired such a stupid grin.

“Well look who the rebel scum dragged home,” Poe angled his chair round to face Hux, who hovered at the threshold of the cockpit. The long shadow his figure cast from the open doorway made the distance between them feel far greater than physically possible. Hux clutched Gabbo’s red robe closed over his scar, fabric bunching tight in the curl of his fist. The robe, Poe decided, looked better on Hux, _way_ better. “Morning, beautiful.”

If Poe squinted hard enough, Hux’s sneer could _almost_ pass as a smile.

“Dameron.” Decision made, Hux stepped into the cockpit, the hydraulic door whooshing shut behind him. Here, with only the dim ambient glow of the control panels to light them, Poe felt more exposed than he had yet, despite having been naked and balls deep in the man standing before him but hours before.

Going by the way Hux moved, that memory had not left him yet either.

“Feeling rough?” Poe let his voice soften over the question, hand lifting to gesture to the co-pilot’s chair beside him.

Hux took one look at the chair and winced, opting instead to close the distance between them to stand awkwardly before Poe. The robe made Hux look even taller, if such a thing was possible. The deeply brocaded fabric hung heavy off his shoulders, the sleeves barely covering the slender length of his forearm. His wrists, when they caught the light, were chafed red. Poe hadn’t noticed before, on the stage. Had worried enough over them earlier, when he’d half-guided, half-dragged Hux into his bunk. Figured he’d deal with them later, which was technically _now_ , having opted instead to give Hux some time to rest before assaulting him with any more of his attention.

But Hux was here now, and entirely of his own accord.

Was in fact _sinking to his knees_ , to genuflect on the hard durasteel floor at Poe’s feet.

When Hux’s forehead touched Poe’s knee, Poe was sure his swallow was audible.

“Hugs…”

“Shut it, Dameron.”

Poe let it happen. Understood, now, what this was. And he was, without reservation, happy to provide it. Hux’s hair was gossamer soft beneath his palm, sliding silken through his fingers.

Silence stretched long, but easy. So easy, Poe wondered if he weren’t still under some effect of the honey. Knew, in his heart, that whatever was between them now was as natural as the cadence of his breath, the pulse of his heart, the scattering of freckles behind Hux’s ear.

“Where are we going?” Hux eventually asked, after the easy silence stretchered to tenuous and Poe was sure something as simple as the pounding of his heart would break it.

“Where do you wanna go, Hugs?” Poe asked, because really, Poe didn’t know where the fuck he was headed, right now.

“Do you…have a home?” Hux lifted his head as he asked, turning his face up to regard Poe from his place on the floor. This close, Poe could see how red Hux’s eyes still were. The color made the green of his gray pop, and Poe thought he could loose himself in those eyes. Hux looked away before Poe had the chance.

“I have a home, yeah.” Poe watched as Hux’s head dropped, hovering now over his knee. A question unasked, permission yet to be provided. Carefully, Poe asked. “Want me to take you home, Hugs?”

When Hux nodded, Poe couldn’t stop the smile, didn’t even try.

Didn’t think twice when he slid to the floor alongside Hux, finding his way into the folds of the robe, where Hux’s skin still hid, sleep-warmed and soft. Poe pressed close, thumb finding the scar over his heart and smoothing over the rough ridge. The sound of Hux’s sigh was the sweetest song.

“Then let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank so much for reading y'all! All kudos and comments are love - You can find me on tumblr @viraaja and twitter @goddessviraaja
> 
> Stay safe & healthy, friends ♥


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